Secrets of My Hollywood Life #5: Broadway Lights (14 page)

"I will," I promise. He's so sweet to worry about my beauty sleep. "I'll be well rested for the dance on Friday." I hear Riley on stage so I better go. Any second she's going to come looking for me. "I'll try you later, okay?"

After we hang up, I feel a little better. At the same time, I'm a little sad. The only thing we got to talk about was the silly charity kissing booth. I didn't even ask him who won the meets in San Diego! I didn't get to tell him about Riley, or Mom driving me nuts about the Hamptons, or ask how his family was. That's what I'm thinking about during the last hour of rehearsal. Thankfully nobody notices my mood change. I'm still a little blue when we say our goodbyes and I head outside to the waiting town car.

When I open the car door, I hear wailing that would rival any passing cop car siren. I look inside and see Nadine in the backseat with her arm around Sky. Her long black hair is sort of frizzy and her nose is all red and her skin is blotchy. Very unlike Sky, who never steps outside without at least concealer and bronzing powder. Even Rodney looks worried about her.

"What happened?" I ask.

Nadine's face is grim. "Sky's show got the ax." That makes Sky cry harder. "I mean, it was put on hold. Indefinitely." Sky begins to hiccup. "She showed up at the apartment looking for you and insisted she come meet you here."

I slide in next to Nadine and put my arm awkwardly around Sky. She pulls the shoulder of my tee and uses it as a tissue. I guess she can't risk getting anything on her one-of-a-kind Nicole Miller magneta silk sundress. (I know it's one of a kind because she tells me every time she wears it.) I let the my shirt-as-a-tissue thing slide. "Sky, I'm so sorry." I rub her back. "What happened?"

"Reporter..."--
sniff
--"... was... right!"
Snort
. "Grady is fighting with the network..."--
snort
--"about location, budgets, EVERYTHING! He threatened to pull the plug, so they..."--
SOB
--"... did it for him! We're off the schedule." She buries her head in my shoulder, sending snot all over my tank top. Eww.

"I don't know what to do," Sky continues, starting to get hysterical. She looks up at me with big, dark eyes, her chandelier earrings dangling as the car moves. "What do you do when your career is in free fall?"

"I don't know."

"You
must
know. Yours has been in free fall for a while!" Sky snaps.

I look at Nadine. She's trying not to laugh.

"If you're going to get snippy then you can cry to someone else." I sound sterner than I intended and Sky starts to sob again.

"I'm sorry, K." Sky takes a compact from her small Gucci clutch and examines her face. She grabs a tissue from the box Nadine is now holding. I guess Nadine doesn't want her cute multi-print Gap boho top becoming a tissue either. "I'm just mad and you're the only person I could think of who would actually listen to me. You're too nice to say no." Nadine hands her another tissue.

"Call Laney and ask her if we can reschedule," I instruct Nadine, then turn to the driver in the front of the black town car. "We need to go to the Upper West Side. The Shake Shack."

"Yes!" Rodney exclaims. "I've been dying to go there."

Sky pops up again. "What the heck is the Shake Shack? I'm in no mood to take some weird Zumba dance class, K!"

"It's a burger and milk shake place, Sky." Nadine tucks a lock of Sky's black hair back behind her ear.

"They say it's out of this world," I add. "Come on, it will cheer you up."

Sky buries her head back in my chest. I take that as a yes. I pat Sky's shoulder gently, wondering how my life got so weird.

Forty minutes later (It's a long wait!), Sky and I are deep into vitamin creamsicle shakes, made with frozen custard and ice cream, and the fattest burgers you've ever seen. We both got sides of fries, of course. Sky demanded Rodney stand guard outside the corner shop's door so that the paparazzi can't capture her eating "a gazillion calories in one sitting." Nadine offered to stand outside and eat with him--anything to avoid hearing Sky cry some more. Thankfully, Sky appears a little calmer now and the color has returned to her cheeks. She sucks hard on the straw of her shake, and her pink lipstick leaves a mark on the straw.

"I told you food can fix anything." I dip another fry in my ketchup.

Sky rolls her eyes and stares at the glass ceiling. "A shake does not fix my employment problem. But it does taste good. Thanks." She gets quiet and looks down at the table. Then she takes another bite of her burger. "I needed this."

"You're welcome." I smile. "You're going to be fine. You'll get another gig before the week's out."

"Not on TV. " Sky's voice cracks. "The fall schedule is set, and for the first time in over a decade I won't be on it."

"You've got
SNL
coming up," I remind her. "That will be huge for both of us. And then maybe you'll do a movie for the fall. You're always going on and on about all the offers you have coming in. Pick one."

"True." Sky moves the fries around her plate with a long fuchsia fingernail. "But it's not the same thing and you know it, K." She looks at me. "I miss
FA
." Her eyes begin to well up.

Now my eyes start to tear too. "Same here," I say hoarsely, digging my fingers into the bottom of the green bench I'm sitting on.

"I miss being part of a show that I loved--even if I pretended not to some of the time." Sky is on a roll. "I didn't realize how much I'd miss it, you know? Until it was gone. And I'm not saying this to send you off the deep end again, but I feel like the only one who could possibly understand any of this is, bizarrely enough, you. Does that make any sense?"

I nod. "More than you know," I tell her. "Believe it or not, I even miss fighting with you. At least you were always up-front with your insults." I tell her about how badly Riley has been making me feel. Sky is pretty worked up about "the British tart," as she calls her, and says a bunch of other things I shouldn't repeat. Still, hearing Sky say I'm being too hard on myself about being a first-time stage star makes me feel better.

I raise my milk shake.

"What are you doing?" Sky asks, suddenly alarmed. She fumbles for her Burberry shades and puts them on to avoid being noticed.

"Toasting us."

"With milk shakes?" she says, flabbergasted.

"Go with it, Sky." I arch my eyebrow (they look great now that I've had them shaped at Eliza Petrescu, aka the queen of the arch). I raise my paper cup higher. Sky does the same, even though she has a puss on her face. "To us finding something that makes our future as bright as our past."

"Nice, K," Sky mocks me.

"It was on the back of my fortune cookie wrapper at Shun Lee Palace last night," I say. "But it's true. I hope we both find the next
FA
of our lives--whether it's TV, movies, Broadway, or none of the above. But I hope, maybe, as we're looking for those things," I say tentatively, "we can do it together." I almost cringe, waiting for Sky to make some sort of witty jab at me. But instead she sort of smiles.

"It's a deal," she says. And then we clink on it.

Wednesday, June 17

NOTE TO SELF:

Pack 4 L.A.

Have Nadine ck. w/Paul/Shelly about hair/makeup time.

Fri. Flight 2 L.A. 11:55 AM, JFK Airport.

Prom pickup Friday @ 6 PM.

**
SNL
week starts--Monday @ 10AM!

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PSSST... Everything you're not supposed to know about Tinseltown's Faves!
by Nicki Nuro

Will Kaitlin Burke Sink Her Broadway Show?

She wowed us on
Family Affair
, smoked the big screen in
Pretty Young Assassins
and is known by fellow stars as one of the sweetest actresses there is today. Is there anything Kaitlin Burke can't do?

Maybe Broadway.

Sources close to the
Meeting of the Minds
production are worried that Kaitlin's first part on the Great White Way may be her last. While Kaitlin is working hard at rehearsals and is wonderful with both the cast and the crew (she recently delivered pizza for the entire cast after they finished a rehearsal), some say she just doesn't have what it takes to do live theater.

"She has no clue how to take direction or connect with a live audience, and her stage presence is way off," says one. "If she doesn't improve, I fear the show may end its run early. There is no way people will pay to see Kaitlin butcher the role that Meg Valentine made famous."

Could celebrity be getting in the way of Kaitlin's work ethic? Since moving to New York, Kaitlin has been on the scene a lot. She recently attended an Operation Read America event at the Waverly Inn, has taken in several plays like
Wicked
and
Mary Poppins,
and has been seen on the town with costar Dylan Koster (see picture at right of Kaitlin and Dylan's kiss at the Operation Read America event). "Kaitlin is lovely," Dylan said when he was reached for comment. "And she's going to be brilliant in the show."

Biased opinion? Guess we'll just have to wait and see for ourselves.

SEVEN: It's Good to Be Home (Even if It's for Less than 48 Hours)

The hot, gooey cheese drips off my slice of pizza, and splashes of oil drip onto my vintage
Star Wars
tee. Oops! Thank God for Shout wipes.

"Ugh! Watch that grease," says Paul, my former
FA
hairdresser. "I don't want any oily fingers ruining my masterpiece. How do you eat that stuff and stay so thin anyway? If I even look at fried dough my stomach poofs up and Jacques reminds me of my unused gym membership." He pats his taut midsection, which is in direct proportion to his well-toned tanned arms and long legs.

I giggle. "I highly doubt your stomach bloats after one slice."

Liz is sitting next to me in her melon C&C California V-neck hoodie finishing her own slice, and she agrees wholeheartedly. "Even if it did, this slice would be worth the extra twenty minutes on the elliptical trainer."

I stare at my slice lovingly. Nadine ordered takeout from Liz's and my favorite pizza place in Los Angeles, A Slice of Heaven, so that we had something to nosh on while we got ready at my house. We were starving after the almost six-hour plane ride. We got our usual--a Sicilian pie with extra cheese, peppers, and broccoli, and large Sprites. I've already had two slices and am starting on my third. With the Food Police (Mom) back in New York, I can eat what I want without hearing the words "fittings," "photos," or "cellulite."

HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER SEVEN: People always want to know how it's possible for celebs to gain a few pounds when they have trainers, personal chefs, and money for any vegan/organic/gluten-free diet they want to try. My latest trainer, Olga Emegen, isn't afraid to tell the cold hard truth to anyone who asks: you can work celebrities to the bone, give them all the perfectly portioned packaged meals in the world, and tell them every workout and diet trick in the world, but you can't watch them 24/7. Even celebs have moments of weakness--like now--and Olga is not here to stop me from having this third slice of pizza. Or from gulping down that gooey chocolate chip cookie Dylan bought me the other day at rehearsal. She can't hold my hand--or rather slap it--every minute of the day. And celebs, just like everyone else in the world, are human. We have cravings too.

I hear a small click and look up. Nadine has just taken a photo of me in mid-bite on her camera phone. She smiles at me mischievously before tucking the phone back into her faded Gap jeans. "I think I'm going to save this for future blackmailing purposes. If we don't like those SAT scores that are due any day, this picture will guarantee you go back and take them again."

"Some chaperone you are," I mumble. I couldn't believe Mom and Dad let me fly back to Los Angeles with just Nadine and Rodney. Mom said I was old enough to do it, but I suspect the real reason neither of my parents accompanied me for the quick trip was that Mom's Darling Daisies committee has some charity dinner this weekend at the Time Warner Center. I've never seen her so excited to work on something for free before.

"I'm sure Kaitlin got a great score," Shelly boasts. She's my former TV makeup artist so she's a bit partial. She's doing Liz's makeup first while I get my hair done and Shelly is so short she has to use a step stool to reach her. She takes Liz's empty plate and hands it to our housekeeper, Anita. Then she starts Liz's makeup by dabbing a little under-eye concealer and applying loose powder as a base. "You need a stronger moisturizer. The L.A. sun is doing serious damage to your delicate skin." I try not to laugh. Shelly has always worried about my skin too. She's a mama bear-type, plush body and all. I'm glad Paul and Shelly were free to do our hair and makeup for the prom. They're both doing a ton of day shoots and are fielding offers to go on staff for some new fall shows.

"Kates was studying hard at the end for that test and I'm sure it paid off," Liz says as Shelly starts to sweep a purple shadow, the same shade as Liz's cashmere drawstring pants, over her lids. "I don't know what she worked on harder--fixing her image, spending time with Austin, or studying. I know Nadine would like us to think it was studying."

"I did all three." I resist the urge to wipe my greasy fingers on my brown Torn stretch terry pants and instead look in the mirror that Paul has placed on the kitchen island. Thank God Mom isn't here to see the mess we've got going on. Anita, our housekeeper, who has had more than one run-in with Mom, promised to have everything back in order before she flies back in two weeks for her standing date with Botox. (Shhh!) "Sometimes I do have my act together."

Just being back in Los Angeles makes me feel more in control. I know it sounds odd, but I breathe better here (which is strange considering all the smog). Maybe it's all the hills and the grass and the palm trees or the luxury of having a pool in my backyard (something I sorely miss in New York). One thing I don't like so much is how isolated Los Angeles can make you feel. In New York, you can meet a new person every ten seconds. In L.A., the only way you talk to strangers is if your car overheats on the freeway during rush hour traffic and someone rolls down their car window to talk to you. Which is to say, you don't.